


You're going to be the Death of me

by isaacedison



Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: and a few others - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-03-30 20:54:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3951394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isaacedison/pseuds/isaacedison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas should have died but for some reason Newt couldn't let that happen. Maybe he wouldn't have let him live if he had known the punishment for this act of betrayal: Going back to Earth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. O Death

**Author's Note:**

> Hi~ Thought I could try something new. I know that the description is pretty vague but don't worry - a lot of stuff is going to happen in this story! Hope you'll like it ~ (The story was kind of inspired by the song 'O Death' which played in Supernatural, by the way)

 

No one saw it coming.

 

The day had started like any other. Thomas got up at seven in the morning, went to school and was now walking home with his friends. He wasn't exactly very popular, but the few friends he had were enough and meant the world to him. Ever since their friendship was tested in the most dreadful way imaginable, they were inseparable and he had no intention of letting them go.

 

As they were walking down the street they didn't notice that someone was following them silently. They just continued their engaging conversation, not being aware of what was about to happen.

 

“I really can't believe that she actually kicked me out of class. I mean, Teresa is super sassy – the whole time, but soon as I open my mouth I'm the bad guy,” Minho complained loudly.

 

“Might be because my comments are classy-sassy whereas yours are dumb.”

 

"Have you ever considered that maybe he likes you?"

 

"Ew."

 

They all laughed. But for some reason it felt different than usually. They weren't as carefree as they used to be, Thomas knew that, but there was something else. He sensed that something bad was about to go down. However, he shook that thought of his away. Why ruin a nice moment?

 

There was no need to hurry. None of them had a curfew (and even if, it was still late afternoon.) They enjoyed the moment. That was, until Thomas' cell phone started ringing. From there on, everything happened really fast.

 

He fell behind to answer his phone.

 

The creepy guy came closer.

 

The others didn't notice.

 

Answering his phone was a waste of time. Someone had dialled the wrong number and hung up soon as he or she heard Thomas' voice on the other side of the line. Thomas didn't think much of it (he later cursed himself for the way things turned out in that moment.)

 

"Hey," he heard a husky voice say.

 

Thomas turned around to face the stranger standing in front of him.

 

"Gimme all the money you have," he demanded.

 

"What?" Thomas asked in confusion.

 

"Today's not your lucky day, kid," the man said and pulled something out of his bag. A knife. Thomas was a little bit scared. Maybe not just a little. And maybe not scared. Terrified was a better word to describe his current state. His friends slowly seemed to have noticed that he had fallen behind and turned around with questioning looks. But Thomas had something more important to take care of.

 

He was about to start running away when he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his stomach.

 

The stranger had been too fast.

 

He had already jammed the knife into Thomas' body.

 

The pain was almost unbearable. It felt burning hot. Blood started dripping out of the wound. Everything around Thomas became dizzy and he couldn't concentrate anymore. He heard someone saying his name. It was Teresa. She sounded concerned. Thomas wanted to reply, he wanted to assure her that everything was all right. But it wasn't.

 

The man had pulled the knife out of Thomas' stomach and more and more blood fell to the ground. But the red liquid wasn't the only thing falling to the ground. Thomas felt his head hitting the street. He tried to cover his wound with his hands and kept telling himself mentally that he needed to stay strong. At least until help arrived. (He really hoped that his friends were intelligent enough to call an ambulance.)

 

 

And then something weird happened.

 

Suddenly, Thomas felt cold. He couldn't shake the feeling that the temperature had dropped a few degrees and he shivered a little. He tried looking at his friends. They were kneeling beside him. Teresa totally freaking out. Minho trying to stay calm. Alby stood in the distance screaming something into his cell phone. And his little brother Chuck just held his hands with tears forming in his eyes.

 

All of them looked concerned. But they didn't seem to be cold.

 

Thomas looked at his hands. One of them intertwined with Chuck's, the other one still lying on his wound. Nevertheless he could see all the blood under it and he began feeling sick. Everything started spinning and he had to close his eyes for a second.

 

When he opened them, he noticed someone standing a few metres away from him and his friends. It wasn't his attacker, that he was sure of. It was a boy. Maybe his age or perhaps a bit younger. But the boy just stood there, not showing any emotion. Almost as if he wasn't aware that someone was lying in front of him, bleeding to death.

 

Thomas tried to get a closer look at the boy.

 

He had blond hair, which almost reached his shoulders. He was tall but Thomas couldn't tell if he was taller than him or not. The boy's clothes were black - completely. He wore a black t-shirt, black ripped jeans and something that looked a lot like a cape.

 

The pain in his stomach brought Thomas back to reality.

 

He groaned loudly and pulled his knees towards the rest of his body, hoping it would make the pain go away (of course it didn't.)

 

He heard the stranger laughing dryly.

 

"You really think that's gonna help you?" the boy asked while folding his arms in front of himself.

 

"Who-"

 

Thomas tried to talk but it took too much energy. He felt something dripping out of his mouth. Blood.

 

"Don't speak," Teresa said in between two sobs, "the ambulance is on its way."

 

Thomas took a deep breath and then tried to point at the stranger. Minho's look followed his gesture.

 

"What's he pointing at?" he asked quietly.

 

"I don't know, there's nothing there," Alby replied whispering, "He's lost too much blood already."

 

Thomas' eyes widened in fear. What did they mean? Couldn't they see that kid?

 

"They cannot see me, you bloody idiot."

 

He wasn't an expert, but Thomas was pretty sure that he was having a panic attack. The blond boy came closer to him and the grass underneath his feet wilted.

 

"Hate to break this to you but your time has come."

 

The words hit Thomas like a train. His time had come? As in, he was going to die now? His life was just over? He inhaled sharply and tried to make a sound, but nothing but air left his mouth as he exhaled the oxygen. Who was that boy?

 

"You're wondering who I am, right?"

 

Apparently he could read minds.

 

The next thing he said threw Thomas completely off.

 

"I am Death."

 

Again, the boy took a few steps towards Thomas, who was still lying on the ground, surrounded by his friends.

 

"All it takes is one touch and you're gone," the stranger whispered to himself.

 

He came closer and closer and when he was separated from Thomas by only a few centimetres, he extended his hand to him. When his skin almost touched Thomas', the boy stopped moving. Something in his eyes suddenly changed, as if he noticed something he hadn't before.

 

"I..."

 

He didn't finish his sentence. Instead, he pulled his hand away and shuffled back like a scared animal. His eyes were filled with fear as he looked down on Thomas. But a few seconds later he was back to his stony facial expression.

 

"This time, you're lucky."

 

Those were his last words before he vanished into thin air.

 

And Thomas passed out.

 


	2. Renegade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi~ Sorry that it took me so long to update (school's been horror.) The chapter is a bit messy, I hope you understand when which character is speaking/thinking. And thanks to those who left comments etc on my last chapter <3 Hope you like it :3

"I can't believe that you actually did that. Newt, we have our rules around here. Number one: If someone's time is up, you kill them. What were you thinking? They won't let you get away with that, you know it."

 

Newt couldn't listen to it anymore. He made a mistake, yes, but why was that such a big deal? Everyone makes mistakes.

 

"Gally, I appreciate your concern about me but this - whatever it is that you're trying to do - will not change anything. I didn't kill him. So what?"

 

" _So what?_ You broke the rules and they will soon find out. Do you have any idea what they could do to you as a punishment? Torture. Prison. Maybe they'll make you start working for Cupid instead of the Death Department," Gally speculated.

 

Newt rolled his eyes in annoyance.

 

"Why didn't you kill him?"

 

It was an unexpected question. How was Newt supposed to answer it? He himself wasn't sure why he acted the way he did. But the kid he had to kill... He just seemed... Newt couldn't explain the feeling. Familiar? Strange? Weird? All these words described it only vaguely. And if he didn't understand it - then how the hell was Gally supposed to get it?

 

"It's none of your business."

 

Newt was ready to turn around and walk away when a third person suddenly entered their conversation.

 

"Perhaps you are right. It's really none of his business," Janson - head of the Death Department - said. He snapped his fingers and Gally was gone. At least that was what Newt thought until he realized that it wasn't Gally who was gone, it was them. They had changed their location.

 

"But it's ours."

 

Everyone was looking at Newt.

 

He was in court.

 

 

#

 

 

"Explain the situation. Do not leave out any important details."

 

Newt sighed. It had been almost two hours. He had told the judges his story three times already. They didn't believe him and kept asking questions. He wasn't sure what they wanted to hear. That he planned a revolution? A rebellion? They wanted a legit reason for not killing someone who was supposed to die.

 

"I told you what happened," Newt said, trying to stay calm, "I didn't kill him and I have no clue why I acted the way I did."

 

Janson exchanged a weird glance with one of the judges. Newt couldn't quite figure out its meaning -but he was pretty sure that it wasn't a very good sign.

 

"Newt," Janson started, "What was the first thing we told when you started working for our department?"

 

"If someone's time is up, kill them. No exceptions."

 

"When did you start working for us?"

 

Newt hesitated. Why would he be asked such a question?

 

"That was... twenty-seven years ago," he answered.

 

"And for how long has our department been existing?"

 

"Millions of years," Newt muttered under his breath. He knew where this was going.

 

"Now, who has more knowledge of what's good for humanity? You, a boy who died at the age of seventeen, or us, who have been around forever? Think wisely."

 

Newt didn't answer the question. Why would he? There was only one thing left to do. He went down on his knees in front of Janson and the judges.

 

"I officially apologise for my actions. I was wrong but I promise you that it will never happen again."

 

"Refusing to kill someone is a real crime, Newt. An apology won't be enough. You're going to be punished. We will now discuss what sort of punishment you will get. Wait here."

 

And with these last words, Janson and the rest of the court vanished.

 

#

 

They called him crazy.

 

Of course, they didn't say it directly to his face but he overheard it a couple of days ago when they thought he was asleep. Thomas found their conversation quite interesting. They were worried – about his mental health. He knew that he was perfectly fine, still, no one seemed to believe him.

 

“It's probably just the shock. It'll go away,” the doctor had said.

 

_Doctor._

 

Where did this man even take the right from to call himself a doctor? After running millions of tests, he still hadn't figured out what the reason for Thomas' near death experience was. He himself knew of course why this had happened to him.

 

“I saw Death,” he had told his mother, “He was standing right in front of me and...”

 

“Honey,” she interrupted him with teary eyes, “Please, just take your medication.”

 

 

#

 

 

“Your punishment has been decided,” Newt heard a grim voice say.

 

He sighed. Punishment never sounded good and he couldn't imagine what terrible things they would do to him. During the last few hours he started regretting his actions. Refusing to kill someone. He messed with the natural order, the course of life. Did he really expect to get out of this without having to bear the consequences? How could he be so stupid?

 

Again and again the moment which led to all of this played in his head. Why didn't he kill that boy? Was it because that guy was still so young? No. Newt never had any problems killing children before. He knew that there was a greater sense behind this. There are some things in the universe, things between heaven and hell (he had seen both places at least once and disliked them), things you just don't mess with.

 

The natural order was one of them.

 

Every now and then he tried to remember his own death. The memory was completely erased from his mind, something that just happens when you die. Neither could he remember his life.

 

The authorities told him about his life and death.

 

Car accident. At the age of seventeen. After knowing about this, it wasn't much of a surprise that he didn't have any problems with killing children. (Maybe it was some sort of revenge, who knows.)

 

“Your punishment...”

 

 _Please no torture_ , he kept telling himself. Newt already died once, meaning he was now immortal (not the political correct term though.) Being tortured but not able to die was the worst that could happen. Neverending pain. Reliving death all over again, dozens of times.

 

“...is to go back to Earth and kill the boy you let survive.”

 

 

#

 

 

He dreamt of Death.

 

The boy was standing right in front of him and looked into his eyes. Thomas knew that he should have been scared but for some reason... he just wasn't.

 

“Who are you?” he asked. His voice echoed through the nothingness he found himself in.

 

The boy kept on staring at him.

 

“Your time has come.”

 

Then he touched Thomas' forehead. His skin felt cold as ice, yet it was soft. Pain shot through Thomas' body.

 

Next thing he knew, he woke up in his room, sweating and panting heavily.

 

And he wasn't alone.

 

He was standing in front of him.

 

Fear started spreading in his body as the boy slowly began to speak.

 

“You knew I would eventually come and get you.”

 


	3. A Friend

Thomas had lost his ability to function properly. He couldn't move, he couldn't speak. Even breathing had become an exhausting task. Still filled with fear, he found the strength to take a small step backwards. The boy – Death – continued to stare at him. His gaze was rife with hate, agony and contempt.

 

Thomas was sure that today was the day he had to die. If he liked it or not.

 

As he tried to take another step into the opposite direction, the stranger narrowed his eyes.

 

“Stop that,” he hissed and Thomas' body immediately froze.

 

The boy suddenly came closer and extended his arm towards Thomas, just like he did in his dream. One thing, however, was different. Apart from the coldness, Thomas couldn't feel anything when the boy touched him. There was no pain, no urge to start screaming. It surprised Thomas – positively.

 

He noticed that the boy in front of him was just as confused and shocked as he was. For a second, Thomas saw a variety of emotions reflecting in Death's eyes but they disappeared in a blink and Thomas was left wondering, if it was just his imagination that caused him to see these feelings.

 

“No one should have this much luck,” the boy muttered under his breath.

 

Without breaking the eye contact, he pulled his arm away. Thomas felt a little disappointed about that but he couldn't quite figure out why exactly it seemed to upset something deep inside of him.

 

“Who are you?” Thomas whispered carefully. Asking such a question felt wrong and Thomas couldn't help but feel as if he betrayed someone. A familiar feeling spread through his body upon looking at the blond boy in front of him. Almost as if he knew him.

 

Still, he was a little proud of his sudden courage.

 

“A friend,” the boy answered.

 

Then he turned around and simply left the room.

 

Thomas didn't follow him because he knew that the boy would come back.

 

 

#

 

 

“A friend? A friend?! Why the bloody hell did I say that crap?”

 

Newt slammed his head against the wall in front of him over and over again. It hadn't been his intention to answer any of the boy's questions (another really nice rule the workers of the Death Department had to obey.) How could he be foolish enough to speak with his victim and _claim to be his friend_. That didn't even make any sense.

 

Newt was upset, which wasn't a very promising sign. He never forgot about the speech he was given the day of his death.

 

_Emotions are for the mortal beings. Your death doesn't simply make you forget about your life, family or friends – it also causes your body to forget how to show feelings. From now on, there will be nothing distracting you from making reasonable decisions. Always remember, it's a gift, not a curse not to be able to feel._

 

Newt remembered what had happened earlier, when he had tried to kill that boy. His powers didn't work.

 

“Oh no.”

 

His powers not working.

 

Suddenly being very emotional.

 

“I'm... alive again?” he asked himself quietly.

 

“I thought it would take you longer to realize it but aren't you full of surprises, lately.”

 

Newt spun around to face Janson. He almost expected him to appear sooner or later.

 

"Why am I alive? I thought I only had to kill that kid and then everything would be okay again? Course of life back in order and everyone happy?"

 

He was more than just confused. Of course he knew that this task wouldn't be easy. From the beginning on he sensed that something about this mission was off and now without having his powers it was even harder to end the boy's life. Newt was pretty sure that it was already hard enough for him to succeed, so why would they bring him back to life on top of everything?

 

"You will soon understand," Janson promised.

 

"But I want to understand it now."

 

Newt felt left out. Keeping secrets was such an unnecessary thing to do in this situation. Couldn't the Death Department be clear about something for once? It always had to be one great mystery and Newt was honestly sick of it. From time to time he had learnt not to ask any questions. And at this point, he didn't even want to know anything about his past life or about his death. It wouldn't help him anyway. But this was the present. He needed at least some information. And judging from the look on Janson's face, he wouldn't get it any time soon.

 

"I cannot tell you."

 

"This is ridiculous," Newt hissed angrily, "How am I supposed to-"

 

Before he could finish his sentence, the head of his Department had vanished, leaving Newt alone in the hallway of the hospital. The blond boy groaned.

 

"Great," he muttered under his breath, "Bloody amazing. Now I actually have to spend time with that kid."

 

 

#

 

 

Thomas didn't tell anyone about the incident with the stranger who had tried to kill him. He refused to call the boy 'Death', simply because he was just some guy who had touched his forehead, hoping Thomas would drop dead. Last night, he almost seemed harmless and completely different than the boy Thomas remembered from before. He didn't give off that special 'I'm going to kill you' vibe - at least not anymore.

 

"What are you thinking about?" Teresa suddenly asked.

 

"Nothing important..." Thomas lied, "Hey, Tess, can I ask you a question?"

 

Judging from the look on her face, his friend knew exactly that he wasn't telling the truth, but she decided not to push it. If Thomas didn't want to talk about it, she surely wouldn't bother him.

 

"Since when do you need permission to ask questions?"

 

"It's just... Have you ever felt like you forgot something really important?"

 

Teresa laughed at his question.

 

"Of course I know that feeling, who doesn't?"

 

"I don't think you understand it," Thomas sighed, "It's more than just a feeling. It's like... something deep inside of me tells me that I should remember something but I have absolutely no idea what it is."

 

"Don't worry. If it's really that important, it'll come to you sooner or later."

 

Thomas was about to reply something when the door suddenly flew open and his best friend, Minho, entered.

 

"How's it goin'?" he asked, grinning widely.

 

"I'm fine. I mean, you know, considering that I almost died for absolutely no logical reason. I can't wait to finally get out of this hospital, it's so boring."

 

„Well, Tom, someone did try to stab you. Don't forget that,“ Teresa exclaimed.

 

„I overheard a conversation of some doctors. The wound wasn't deep enough to kill me and it didn't hurt any of my organs. The blood loss shouldn't even have made me faint. The truth is, they have absolutely no idea what to do with me. They are clueless“, Thomas remarked.

 

"At least you don't have to go up school," Minho said awkwardly while pulling a chair over to sit next to Thomas's bed, "It's pure hell, especially without you."

 

Teresa snickered.

 

"Yeah, it's terrible. Minho suffers day by day because he misses you do much. He keeps whining that he wants you to come to school, but you know, in a totally manly way."

 

"Aw, you miss me?" Thomas teased his friend.

 

"You wish, shank."

 

 

#

 

 

Teresa and Minho had stayed for a while but eventually they were told to leave by one of the nurses. After a quick goodbye they went home and a few minutes later Thomas' doctor stopped by.

 

"Looks like you can go home soon too," he promised smiling.

 

Thomas didn't like him very much. The man claimed to be an amazing doctor but after weeks of treating Thomas, he still couldn't figure out what was actually wrong with him. He just kept ordering new tests and told Thomas about all the diseases he definitely did not have. The previous week, he had come to tell him "Cancer. Definitely not cancer." Another week earlier he had said the same, just about Alzheimer.

 

"When exactly can I go home?"

 

"Three days," the doctor answered shortly.

 

Thomas nodded happily. Only three more days until he was finally released. And then, maybe, he'd see the mysterious boy again too.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked the chapter. It took me like an eternity to write it, sorry for that. From the next chapter on, the story will be a little more exciting - and Thomas and Newt are actually going to interact with each other, I promise.  
> Hope you have an amzing day~


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